The Harried Mystic

Evensong – 6:30 PM and the day is already beginning to reflect the short march toward the Fall. Just a slight but pleasant chill in the air as I sit outside in our backyard and take a few moments to gaze at the trees.

In Tolkien’s “Ring,” Ents were the giant shepherds of the trees:  protectors whose task it was to watch over those threatened by logging dwarfs and other insults. My mind wanders off to why the “Ents” were imbued by Tolkien ( and the rich history of myth and lore preceding him) with such steadfastness and singular purpose.

Ent elders were a ponderous lot for whom time was measured in very long and deeply reflective periods. Trees remind us to slow down, wait a bit, let some time pass, while we look for the larger patterns and rhythms; the music of the cosmos.

This is  my favorite time of the day as the sun begins to set, and the trees are painted with gold as the glow of sunlight dims at the threshold into dusk. I find myself thinking of the great masterpieces of northern European art and the chiaroscuro ( the play of light and darkness that gives heightened definition to all objects) as I delight in watching the change in the color palette come over the branches and the leaves.

The serenade of the crickets has already begun as I remain  still and generally undistracted (except for the regular white noise of traffic on the road beyond our back fence).  I am struck by the power of the moment. It’s as if time starts to run backwards as the swath of gold on the largest tree recedes and gives way to the time of shadows and then the darkest green.

Two biblical exhortations become my mantra in the moment: ” Be still and know that I am,” and “G-d is in his Holy Temple, let all the Earth keep silent.”

Amen

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